Conclusion
by openattheclose
Summary: COMPLETED It's been a year since David Webb jumped off a building into the east river, and the media is convinced that he, along with the two woman associated with him, Marie Kreutz and Nikki Parsons, are dead. They are wrong. On all three counts.
1. Chapter 1

**Prepare for a lengthy AN...**

**Ultimatum was great and everything, but there were a few loose ends I felt needed to be tied up (I.e Jason knowing more about his past than the fact that he chose to be an assasian and his former name), and I started writing about those, and it sort of transformed into a whole fic...meh. As my writing goes.**

**There isn't any specific ship in this--I don't want to fool anyone into thinking it's a Nikki/Jason or Marie/Jason story, even though both those characters are obviously in it a lot. But if you clicked thinking it was that--or at least devoted to a particular character--it's not, sorry. **

**That having been said, read away.**

* * *

**Panaji, India**

_Water. Crushing her, pushing her down and forcing her up. She floated, bobbed, limp as a rag doll._

_Arms, too_-_grasping at her frantically as though holding her would bend mortality's rules._

_Her breath_-_no, she wasn't breathing. Someone else was. Sharp, desperate breaths into her mouth._

_None of it helped, none of it eased the slow feeling of herself drifting away. She couldn't feel her own body, she couldn't think. She could only feel the arms slipping away, the water pushing her back, and down…_

She woke with a start, hair clinging to her forehead, eyes darting wildly across the room. White. Not the cold, murky emerald of the waters that had claimed her life, but white.

And then the sounds of a steady beep, first quiet and slow and then loud and constant, as though her ears where just remembering how to hear.

_Dead. I'm dead._

The single though careened through her mind, blocking everything else for a moment. She closed her eyes, fully expecting it all to melt away, for it all to be a horrible nightmare.

The beeping noise remained. It was joined, she noticed, by another sound, a deep electrical hum. She opened one eye hesitantly, but still she saw only white.

Carefully, slowly, she turned her head and opened the other eye. The white was replaced with grey and black and blue; the colours of an assortment of strange looking machines by her bed.

_A bed_-_why the hell am I in a bed?_

She tried to raise her head and instantly regretted it, a sharp jerk of pain bringing her back down. She remembered something about a bullet, a crack of hurt in her head similar to the one she'd just experienced in her mind moments ago.

It took a few minutes of lying there, the beeping ringing in her ears, the white blinding her to the point of closing her eyes, to realize that she must not be dead after all. She'd imagined death like blowing a candle out; simple and painless and thoughtless. None of it involved endless white and machines and beds and-

_Hospitals._

That one thought made everything click, made her eyes look around more frantically than before. She was lying in a bed, a cold, metal one. Sheets were draped over her frame loosely. Her arm lay at her side, looking pale and bruised. She tried to move it but found it took a lot of effort to do so.

Slower this time, she raised her head. The pain still came, but this time she tried to ignore it, biting her lip until she could see more of her surroundings. More beds, some empty, some with a curtain drawn around them, and a door. White ceilings and walls.

_I'm in a hospital. I survived. _

For a moment she felt happy, joy spreading through her. It faded when she remembered more, scrambling to piece together the jigsaw her memories had become.

She tried to speak, but the words wouldn't come. Instead she moaned, relieved she could at least make some sound. She pulled the sheets over her head and breathed quietly, willing the horrible sense of death that still lingered over her to disappear.

She closed her eyes, and with the darkness came scattered images and sounds: a bridge, a desperate voice, a field, a car, glass shattering-

She tried to make out the words, and when she finally did, the phrase was all she could think about.

'_We don't have a choice.'_

She lay there motionless for as long as she could, until her throat throbbed and her arms ached. Then she slowly pushed away the covers and sat up, trying to speak again.

'We don't…' she coughed, eyes burning, fingers digging into her own palm. And still she tried again. 'Don't…have a choice…'

Satisfied, she concentrated on the motionless door, hoping more than anything that someone would open it.

* * *

**Paris, France**

Nikki Parsons wasn't surprised to find the covers on the couch neatly laid into a pile, the person that had once been lying in them stood up and staring out the windows, as though he could see something through the endless rain.

She shut the door and dumped a bag on the wooden kitchen table, brushing an errant strand of hair behind her ear. 'Jason?'

Jason glanced around quickly, face questioning.

'I brought breakfast.'

She hadn't meant the statement to sound as weak and unhelpful as it did, but he nodded anyway, walking over and carefully extracting a croissant from the bag. 'Merci,' he murmured before taking a bite.

Disorientated, Nikki frowned. 'It's raining pretty hard out there.'

'That's Paris. To be honest, I'm surprised you're living here.'

'You still found me, didn't you?'

Jason shrugged. 'I'm good at that.'

Nikki averted her gaze, hanging her coat on the back of a chair. She noticed Jason's, lying discarded by the couch. 'How long are you staying?'

'I have a flight to Thailand in a few hours.'

'You want me to take you to the airport?'

Jason looked at her with some surprise before sitting down on the couch and shaking his head, last remains of the croissant eaten. 'I'll get a taxi. Thanks for letting me stay, though.'

Nikki nodded and sat down beside him, not hungry. He'd come to her house last night at 4AM, arriving with little more than a rain-soaked shirt and an array of questions on how she was and what she was doing to hide. She'd insisted he stay at her apartment for the night rather than some dingy motel room he was bound to end up in otherwise.

'Did you sleep well?'

The corners of his mouth quirked in something resembling a smile. 'That's a pretty desperate attempt at conversation.'

'I meant-' she watched him carefully, searching for some sign of emotion, '-did you have a nightmare or anything?'

He raised his eyebrows. 'The thing about those,' he said finally, causing Nikki to jump slightly, 'is that they're much better when they're not about things you remember very clearly.'

She didn't ask him what he was referring to, but she touched his hand in a mildly comforting gesture before looking on the window again. 'There's a lot of traffic.'

'That's Paris,' he repeated.

'You're not going to get a taxi at this rate, though.'

'I'll leave now.' He stood up.

'Jason, you'd get there faster if you ran, I'm not joking.'

Jason ignored her, zipping up his coat.

'Let me take you?'

He looked back at Nikki. Her face was almost pleading. 'I can use the métro as well, you know.'

'You'd get lost,' she lied dismissively, unwilling to let him disappear that easily. He was the last remaining reminder of a profession she'd spent so long trying to forget.

'I used to live here…'

'Treadstone didn't like agents to use the métro. Too crowed, too busy, too loud.'

Nikki regretted her words the moment she saw Jason's eyes darken and his hands still. 'What I mean is-I know how to get around here better. Just…please?'

For a moment Jason was silent, studying the busy street through the rain that fell on it. He knew how to get there just as well as Nikki, if not better. But still, the idea of her extended company was tempting. Then he sighed, nodded slightly and opened the door.

Nikki didn't hesitate in standing up.

* * *

**New York, USA**

Pamela Landy did not have the average version of good days.

She didn't have the average version of bad days either. Sometimes she wished she did, wished she had the kind of job where she could come home, drink coffee, and complain about her boss or the annoying person that sat next to her or…something. Anything.

As it was, she couldn't even let anyone _know_ about her job, much less discuss the finer details of her manager's business approach with them.

A bad day to her was when something happened like Ward's suicide, or Bourne evading her sight will being in the same block as her _again. _

Actually, anything involving Bourne was usually bad.

Which is why she was grateful for those news reports, the ones that claimed he was dead. For all she knew, he was. Then again, he was pretty damn good at staying alive.

With a disdained expression and a sip of bitter coffee, she returned her attentions to the files before her, rubbing at her temples and trying to force some sort of interest towards the scattered words in front of her. Then the phone rang. She glanced at the number on the screen. Alex Johnson, superintendent.

She winced and answered.

'Hello?'

'Pam, have you been looking at the documents I gave you?'

'Yes.' Looking and reading where too entirely different things, she reminded herself.

'What do you think?'

'Uh…hold on.' She looked back down. Something about oil. Johnson sounded impatient. 'Look, I don't have time-' Pamela heard another voice in the background, and Johnson's frustrated reply following it. 'Forget it. You need to get those signed, okay?'

'Right.'

He hung up.

She edged back in her chair, exhaling in relief. She had been cautious since the discovery of Blackbriar, and the arrests that had followed it.

Then again, anything was better than the pestering questions about Bourne she'd once had to endure.

'_What kind of a threat is he to us?'_

'_If he just wanted to hurt us he could have sent this tape to CNN.'_

Her words had hidden what she really thought. Because he was a threat. She knew this, had experienced it during those fateful minutes she spent watching Abbott commit suicide.

She knew just how much of a threat Jason Bourne could be.

And up until now, almost no one else had.

* * *

**Panaji, India**

She was frowning, gripping her cup of tea tightly. A woman who worked at the hospital had made it for her, and it was slowly easing the dry feeling in her throat.

'You were found in the river,' the nurse was telling her from where she sat on an opposite bed. 'You weren't breathing and you had a bullet wound in your shoulder. The ambulance staff managed to revive you, and you've been in a coma for several months. The bullet has been removed. Don't you remember anything?'

'Bits and pieces, but…' She trailed off and shook her head. 'Did I have any possessions with me?'

The nurse nodded. 'A bag, and some clothes. I brought them'

She handed her a small brown bag. It was torn and dirty, the fabric rough beneath her fingers. She glanced over at the clothes, a red halter top and a long blue skirt. They were in even worse condition, even though it was obvious they'd been washed. She opened the flap on the bag carefully, setting down her tea.

The first thing she saw was some money. Crumpled and faded, the ink blurred beyond recognition, but still money. Relieved, she examined the bills further. Indian money. But she couldn't use it, considering it's damaged state.

'I must have lived here,' she said aloud, placing the bills beside her on the bed and reaching for the other item in the bag.

She pulled it out, her heartbeat increasing rapidly when she saw what it was. 'A passport,' she murmured, startled.

'Is it yours?'

Shrugging, she opened it up. There on one of the pages was her own face, staring back at her. Her hair was different-the girl in the picture's was shoulder-length and brown, her own was blonde and longer. But the same facial features, the same smile.

She scanned it carefully. 'My name is Marie Kreutz,' she said, looking back up at the nurse, smiling. 'I was born in Germany. I'm 31 and…' She didn't finish, eyes darting around the page. Whatever this passport told her, she didn't remember it. Reading these facts didn't help her.

The nurse returned her smile. 'So you remember?'

'No.'

Silence. Marie laid back in the bed, wincing at the pain she felt in her shoulder. 'I wish I did, but I don't.'

The nurse frowned in disappointment and stood up, leaving Marie's clothes lying amongst the sheets. Without another word she left the room.

Marie closed her eyes and sunk backwards. The pain subsided slightly.

A moment later the nurse returned, carrying a tray. On the tray lay a small dish of Indian food and a newspaper.

Marie picked up the newspaper, looking up apologetically once she realized its language. 'I'm sorry, but I don't speak-'

The nurse nodded before she could finish. 'We have one English one somewhere, I think. It's an old issue, but it's better than nothing. I'll get it.'

She left the room again and Marie concentrated on her food, eating slowly. Eating felt as unfamiliar as the name that apparently belonged to her.

The nurse returned and handed her a paper. Marie smiled in thanks and scanned it. 'The Guardian…Renegade Assassin Loose in Europe. That's a British newspaper, right?' She looked up for confirmation, but the nurse was gone.

She shrugged examined the article further, setting down her fork. Suddenly she froze, the dryness in her mouth present again, her eyes wide.

The article had a picture of her.

The article had a picture of her, it also stated her name was Marie Kreutz, said she'd been on the run with an assassin named Jason Bourne-

And the article claimed she was dead.

She threw the newspaper on the floor and pushed the tray to the edge of the bed, shaking as hundreds of images and sounds flooded her mind, clearer now, the voices easy to make out.

'_The only thing we had in common is that neither of us knew who you were!'_

'_You sure it's not just a bad dream?'_

'_It's them. It's Treadstone!'_

'_It says I'm an assassin.'_

She grabbed the passport again from where it lay beside her, remembering stuffing it franticly into her bag. It had been waiting in the glove compartment of their car, more out of a memento than anything else. All her other identities lay in Ziploc bags at a small deserted shack. Those ones she could use, but not this. Not her real name.

She'd planned-_they'd_ planned-to go there, collect everything, and run somewhere. To hide.

But then she was shot…

For a moment she wondered desperately where Jason was, then she wondered if he was even alive. He thought she was dead. Everyone thought she was dead. A major newspaper thought she was dead, even.

She grabbed the article again, searching for more names. She was lucky.

She slipped out of the bed, shoving the newspaper, and her passport into the bag. The money she ignored. There was plenty of money at the shack, if Jason hadn't already taken it.

She threw off the hospital gown and struggled into her own clothes, not caring that they were dirty and torn. She'd buy new ones later. And a plane ticket, a train ticket, something.

She recited the name in the article to herself over and over. 'Pamela Landy. New York, CIA…'

With one last look at the bed, she slipped the bag over her shoulder and hurried out of the door.

She hadn't gone far when she ran into the nurse, who looked at her with concern. 'You can't leave-'

'I have to,' Marie interrupted her, and the desperation in her eyes prevented the nurse from saying anything else. 'Can anyone give me a ride?

* * *

**Charles de Gaull Airport**

**Paris, France**

Jason was examining the TV monitors closely, Nikki by his side. She was flipping idly through a tourist leaflet she'd found on the floor, a distraction from the otherwise crowed and noisy airport.

'That's mine. The 14:00.'

Nikki looked up at the screen. 'Bangkok?'

'Yep.'

'How long until you check in?'

'I have half an hour,' he replied, checking his watch. He looked back at her. 'You hungry? You didn't eat anything.'

She frowned as she thought of the now-stale croissant, lying forgotten on her table. 'Yeah.'

'There's a café over there.'

Minutes later they sat across from each other on a small wooden table, Nikki picking at the omelette on her plate. 'Guess we don't have to worry about the Spanish police coming in anymore.'

Jason grinned, a gesture that surprised her. 'Guess not.'

'Why Thailand?' she asked after a few moments of silence.

Jason shrugged. 'It's a good place to fade into the background. Busy. Lots of people, and it's easy to blend in with them.'

'Where were you staying before?'

'Lots of places. I was in Europe when I thought I should try and find you--make sure you were okay and everything.'

'I'm fine.'

He nodded, smiling briefly. 'And Landy?'

'I haven't heard from her, but she hasn't been on the news or anything. They said the reports about Blackbriar were discovered by Kramer anyhow.'

'What about me?'

'Well, they said you jumped off a building…which you did. They think you're dead, though.'

'Good. Nobody looks for a corpse.'

Nikki wondered if he was right.

'And they said something about me-' she stopped, seeing the concerned look on his face. 'No, just that I was associated with you but that nobody knew where I was, stuff like that.'

'They don't know where you are, do they?'

'I hope not.'

Silence again. She pushed the empty plate away from her and looked at the clock. 'Ten minutes,' Jason told her, following her gaze. 'Thanks,' he added. 'For taking me here and everything.'

'No problem.'

After all, for all she knew, this could be the last time she saw him.

* * *

**Apologies for the lengthy chapter.**

**Oh, and it will have some semblance of a plot, I promise. :D**

**-Tigeress-10**


	2. Chapter 2

Okay, I just re-watched Ultimatum and noticed a few errors in the last chapter. Fixed most of them. If something still doesn't make sense, feel free to tell me.

That being said, why a strange Extreme Ways remix at the end of Ultimatum? XD 

* * *

**Charles de Gaull Airport**

**Paris, France**

Jason didn't like Paris. It held too many memories, too many people he'd came there to find. Nikki, Martin, and before that, himself.

He hadn't liked what he'd found out.

But now he concentrating not on his constant torrent of memories but on the slow-moving-queue in front of him. Nikki had left only after making him promise to call her sometime, so she in turn would know he was alive. After all, he owed her.

Instinctively his eyes wandered over to the guards, standing side by side and leaning against a pillar, both of their gazes on the paper one of them was holding.

It could be something as meaningless as a menu for the café he'd just left or a warrant for someone's arrest, but still Jason felt his body tense, felt the rest of the background drop away as he focused on them.

They were talking, glancing up occasionally. Their voices were too quiet to make out.

'Oui?'

He jumped slightly and turned to see the face of the woman at the check-in-desk smiling at him. He walked forward and handed her his boarding pass. 'Bonjour.'

'Bonjour monsieur,' she replied, examining the pass. She nodded and looked back up. 'Tournez a gauche.' **(1)** She handed it back to him. 'Merci.'

Jason grabbed the pass and walked left through the gate, still eyeing the guards cautiously. They were arguing now; one looking about frantically, the other one kept pointing at the sheet, his face angry.

He tried to push them out of his head before joining the long, snaking line to the metal detectors.

A moment later he heard a woman's protesting voice and hurried footsteps. Jason immediately turned around, hand already in his pocket. The feel of a gun, cool against his fingers, was comforting.

Clambering through the gate were the two guards. Jason craned his neck to see what they were holding.

A wanted poster.

With his face.

Too late he remembered other things about Paris; the assassin he'd almost killed, who'd instead jumped out the window, the guards in the stairwell, the numerous people he'd injured so he himself could stay alive.

None of them had caused him any trouble thus far, but airports were different. They got information about criminals that might be trying to leave or enter the city straight away, and it didn't look they forgot it very easily.

One of the guards pointed at him, yelling something in French that Jason didn't try to comprehend. Instead he lifted the gun, ignoring the terrified cries from beyond him. He'd gotten his desired response. The guards had stilled, knowing they could not reach their own guns fast enough before Jason pulled his trigger.

Slowly and carefully he began to move away, never losing eye contact with the guards, backing through the gate. The people in line all scrambled away from him, and he paused.

Without another moment's thought he turned and ran, not caring who was chasing him. The airport's main entrance was close.

When he was finally outside the first thing he saw was Nikki: waiting at the sidewalk for one of the shuttles that took people from the airport to central Paris. He placed his gun in his pocket and continued running. When she saw him, she looked confused, then terrified.

'Jason, what the hell-'

'No time to explain,' he said hurriedly, pointing to the oncoming bus. 'Get on that. Now.'

* * *

**Panaji, India**

Marie stood motionless in the doorway, watching the sunlight spill over the dusty floorboards.

'_Meet me at the shack in an hour.'_

She wondered what would have happened if she had met him. Then she wondered if he had came here and gotten rid of everything.

'Do you need a ride back?'

She jumped slightly at the voice, glancing back at the car that had taken here her.

'No thanks,' she replied, smiling at the driver, an elderly Indian man.

'What, so you're gonna walk?'

Marie looked behind the car, looked at the winding dirt roads and seemingly endless fields.

'Okay,' she said after a moment, gesturing to the shack. 'I'll be quick.'

'No hurry.'

With that she stepped inside and slammed the door. Streaks of light still came from one solitary window.

At the edge of the room lay a trunk, just where she knew it would be. No lock. She and Jason had agreed that anyone who was a threat to them would know how to pick a lock anyway. At the time it had annoyed her, reminded her just how skilled the people they were hiding from were. Now she was grateful.

She crouched down and did what she thought Jason would do, examine the trunk for signed of it being touched recently. A thin, undisturbed layer of dust had gathered over it.

Biting her lip to stop herself from yelling out in anticipation, she slowly lifted the lid. What she saw almost made her weak with relief. Photos of her, fake passports, all contained in plastic bags and sealed with a rubber band.

She reached in and took them slowly, daring to open one of the containers and look at the passports.

There were three, each baring a different identity and the same picture. She smiled and placed them beside her before exploring the rest of the trunk.

Jason's passports were there too, but no photos. He never posed for photos, she recalled bitterly. Even with her in them, it was a struggle to get him to look anywhere near the camera.

She thought of the one photo of them together in which he looked happy. It was probably gone now, she guessed. He'd most likely destroyed it along with everything else that had any connection to her. Because he was Jason Bourne, more methodical than a machine, and more like a machine than a person for that matter.

How the hell was she going to find him?

She shook her head and grabbed the money left in the trunk. It wasn't much, but it would buy her lodging and a plane ticket. To New York. She needed to go to New York and somehow waltz into the office of a member of the CIA. Weighted down with the hopelessness of it all, she stood up and opened the door, blinded by the rush of Indian sunlight.

'Find what you were looking for?'

She nodded, still clutching the money and passports to her chest. She opened the car door and sat down, still silent, opening her bag and managing to squeeze her newfound belongings into it.

'Where to?'

'The airport,' she replied, staring in the mirror to see his reaction.

His eyes widened slightly. 'It's a long way.'

'I'll give you money,' she told him, extracting a note from the bag and passing it to him.

He took it quickly, the bill crumpling under his fingers. She watched his face change to disbelief as he stared at it, and with a small amount of guilt she was reminded of when she'd looked at money the same way in Zurich.

'Is this real?'

'Yes.' She leaned back into the seat, knowing she'd won the battle even before he started the car, note tucked safely into his pocket.

She stared out the window at the shack, and continued to do so until it faded out of sight amongst the tall grass.

She couldn't shake the feeling that she was fading along with it.

* * *

**Paris, France**

They'd been driving steadily for about half-an-hour, having headed to Nikki's house to retrieve her passports, various belongings, and car. Jason had insisted that she couldn't stay there, that she needed to get out of the country immediately. She, for whatever reason, had reluctantly agreed.

Jason had been constantly scribbling in a notebook that he kept, Nikki saw, in his pocket.

After he stopped writing for a moment, she spoke. 'Where are you going to go?'

'I don't know. Somewhere far away from here,' he replied automatically, never lifting his eyes from the pages in front of him. Nikki sighed.

'Jason, I don't want to run like this.'

He looked up, startled. 'In Madrid-'

'Madrid was different. They weren't treating you fairly and I had a choice to help you. But that was my choice, Jason, not something I was forced into. You don't even know that they're looking for me and yet you're making me leave?'

'Listen-'

'No, I'm not going to listen! I'm tired of this. I was fine, and nobody was looking for me. They still aren't!'

He was silent for a moment, which surprised her. When he finally spoke, it was so quiet she barely heard.

'The last time I heard someone insist they weren't in any danger, they died a month later.'

Nikki looked up, aghast. 'I'm sorry…I didn't mean…'

Jason sighed and looked directly ahead, at the landscape of France blurring past them. 'These people know what they're doing. They'll look at footage from the TV cameras, which will then be sent to the CIA, whom will see you…and recognize you. And subsequently track you down.'

'Why? What do I have to do with anything?'

'They figure that if they have you, they have me.'

_True enough_, she considered.

'Stop the car,' Jason commanded suddenly.

'What?'

'Stop.'

She did, pulling to the side of the now-deserted road. Much to her surprise, Jason opened the door and got out, slamming it behind him. 'Pop the trunk.'

She pressed a button and the trunk made a slight _click_ in response. 'What exactly are you doing?'

'We're only half a mile from the border.'

'Yeah…'

'I left the airport an hour ago.'

Nikki's face twisted in regonization. 'Jason, anyone guarding the border is going to look at the trunk. Which you aren't going to be able to breathe in regardless.'

He looked at her for a moment before pulling out his gun.

'Jason-' she said immediately, 'There's no way-'

He fired twice. Nikki heard the bullets roll down onto the pathway.

She sunk back into her seat, dejected. 'This is a new car.' Jason ignored her. 'This is a new car,' she repeated, 'and they're going to check the trunk.'

Jason shrugged and opened it. 'Just hide your face with your hair as much as you can and act like an innocent American girl. You'll be fine. My guess is they didn't expect me to come by car anyway. If they protest, I'll deal with them.'

Nikki's mouth fell open slightly, but she shut it and stared ahead, listening to Jason's coat as it brushed against the car, listening to the trunk shutting.

_He destroyed my car._

Right now, the image of the CIA finding her seemed almost appealing.

* * *

**New York, USA**

Pam was having a bad day again.

Presently she was leaning against a desk, eyes blurry from looking at the same picture for what felt like hours.

'I told you, we don't have anything to due with these two-' she jabbed a finger in the direction of Jason and Nikki, huddled in a café, '-anymore. And we never will. Why do we want to take him anyway? To have a coffee and discuss the finer points of jumping into the east river?'

'And I told _you_, he is a threat to us,' Johnson was arguing.

'Correction. Kramer asked me whether he was a threat to us. And I told him no. And I was right!'

'Then how do you explain everything that happened last year?'

'He was pissed off! Understandably so! He wanted answers, and he got them. Now if we could all just leave each other the hell alone, things like this wouldn't happen!'

'He's still wanted in Paris.'

'For what exactly?'

'The attack on the agent who jumped out of his window, for example.'

She pointed her finger at Johnson instead of the picture. 'That was Conklin's doing! Bourne was being attacked! What do you expect him to do, offer to play chess with him? Haven't they cleared that up anyway?'

'It would have looked suspicious for Blackbriar to clear charges on a man they were trying to kill, I presume.'

'Oh, you presume.' Pamela didn't think she'd been more visibly angry at her job in her entire life. 'That saves us all then.'

'Pam. This isn't about saving us. This about him.'

She stared at him with a vague form of surprise before placing the picture on the desk and crossing her arms, neatly polished nails tapping at her skin slowly. 'Oh? And how's that?'

Johnson grimaced as if his spoken words were paining him. 'What I mean is…we don't have to bring him in. You're right. But maybe be can stop the people looking for him.'

She raised an eyebrow. 'I see.'

A silence settled over the room as she considered it. She'd promised to extract herself from anything remotely involving Bourne, and so far, it had been a promise she'd kept. But then again, she hadn't had any opportunities to break it.

Except now.

She continued tapping her fingers, eyes occasionally darting over the picture. She felt guilty. He looked content, more so than she'd ever seen him in any case. He didn't look like Jason Bourne, the man who'd been a ruthless killer, but more like David Webb, whom she knew less about but already liked better.

Nikki too held the same carefree gaze, a trace of a smile highlighting her lips. The photo was black and white and zoomed out too far to get a great amount of detail, but it was enough.

'Is there a warrant for Parsons' arrest?'

'There's a picture of her alongside his new poster.'

Pam frowned.

'She doesn't deserve that. Neither does he.'

'You going to do anything to stop it?'

* * *

**Dabolim Airport**

**Goa, India**

It was more crowded than Marie had expected it to be, crammed with long queues and a constant level of chatter. Chiding herself for not speaking Konkani as well as she should, she looked around. She was wearing new clothes bought from the airport, and carrying a new black duffle bag. In it was her passport, which she kept pulling out and examining, if only to remind herself of her new name. She was not Marie Kreutz, victim of a sniper's bullet and her own ill-fated decisions, based on unrelenting emotions. She was Sofia Imar, and she was going to New York.

She was still surprised by how easy it had been-the money, the ticket, a faint gesture towards the correct terminal. Still she was wary, expecting someone to run up to her at any moment and arrest her. For what, she had no idea, but the fake passport had been worn slightly and she'd paid with too valuable bills.

She had to remind herself that she was lucky. Lucky the bullet had hit her shoulder. Lucky she'd read the article and remembered. Lucky that her passports and money had been at the shack. So, so lucky.

Every careful action, every precaution that she and Jason had made came flooding back to her. At the time she'd been annoyed. Now she noticed how they all fell into place in her head as completely necessary things, things that would keep them alive.

'_No one is looking for us, Jason.'_

She'd been stupid, and in a way, naïve. It was just too bad it had taken her apparent death to clear that naivety.

Marie heard an announcement over the intercom that was repeated in various languages, telling the people with terminal four tickets to go there now.

She glanced down at her ticket to make sure, and then continued across the fluorescent floors.

* * *

**(1): It means 'turn left'. The only useful thing I've learned to say in French after taking it for two years...**

**Not as long as the last one--as in like 1000 words less. Oh well.**

**-Tigeress-10**


	3. Chapter 3

**Apoligies if this chapter makes very little sense...it probably won't. Blame my lack of sleep.**

* * *

**Brussels, Belgium**

Jason slammed the car door behind him a little too loudly. Nikki's head snapped around, surprised by the sudden sound. Once convinced it was only Jason, she looked away and resumed her activity of trying to get warm.

'You should get a better coat,' Jason told her.

She nodded, looking around the parking lot at the faded numbers and letters on the pillars, at the posters in French. 'Are you sure we can stay here?'

'What, and still be safe? No.'

To anyone else, this would've meant they shouldn't stay there at all. Not to Jason.

Jason walked in front of her and she followed, heading towards the cramped elevator at the edge of the parking lot. Once inside, Jason looked at her with concern.

'What passport are you using?'

'I have a fake in here,' she replied, pulling one out of her purse. She hesitated. 'Problem is…'

'What?'

'It's a Treadstone identity. It's the only one I still have, and I never used it, but they gave it to me in case-'

'You can't use that.'

'I could try.'

'You could try, and you'd have the CIA outside the building within four minutes after you check in.'

'No, I won't. Like I said, I never used it. It's probably not even in their database.'

Jason raised his eyebrows as the doors opened and a flood of people came in. He followed Nikki outside into the lobby, which was too huge and too expensive looking for his taste. But it would have to do for now. He looked back at Nikki.

'If this messes up, you'll definitely have to run. Again. And this time it'll be easier for them to find you.'

Nikki nodded.

Jason sighed and joined the queue for the check-in desks. 'We'll only stay here for a night. Then you'll have to go somewhere else-much more remote than Paris, and somewhere you've never been. By now they'll have figured out what name I was using at the airport, and will be guarding all the airports etcetera in Bangkok…so I can't go there. But I'll think of something.'

Nikki nodded again, forcing a smile.

It wasn't a reassuring gesture in the least.

* * *

**New York, USA**

Pamela was often angry with her supervisors, for many reasons. But this-the chaos and confusion that one simple photograph had brought upon them all-was almost unbearable.

She'd sat through the sorry excuse for a meeting with her jaw firmly set and eyes glaring. Occasionally she reminded them all that they were, for all intents and purposes, on Bourne's side now. He was not looking for them. He did not plan to. And they should do the same.

This was met, of course, with protests. Claims that he was back to hurt them and gain revenge. If Pam possessed more faith in their opinions, she'd point out that he had no purpose in gaining revenge now that the people who made him what he was were all in jail. As it was, such a statement would have been ignored completely.

Now she sat in her office, reading his file for what felt like the thousandth time. There was nothing in there that he hadn't already dealt with. She knew this.

The phone rang, and in the intense silent that had preceded it, she was almost startled. She picked it up without checking the number.

'Hello?'

'Miss Landy? There's a woman who wants to see you.'

'Name?'

'Marie Kreutz.'

Now _that_ she hadn't expected.

'Send her in.'

Pamela put the phone down and flipped more desperately through the file until she came across a photo of Marie. Confusion deepened the creases in her face. How could someone who was dead-

Her thought was interrupted by the door being opened. She forced herself not to look up, but waited until the door slammed shut to raise her head.

One moment of silence, during which she looked constantly between the picture and the woman who'd just entered her office.

Same face.

Same person.

'There's no way.' Pam shook her head. 'Absolutely none. Abbott confessed, for Christ's sake. Bourne said so himself. Unless both of them were lying, which I doubt…'

The woman-there was no way Pamela was accepting her as Marie anytime soon-shook her head and turned around slightly, pulling down her coat. Pamela saw the edge of a bandage.

'I woke up a few days ago in a hospital in Goa. I didn't remember anything until I read this-' she pulled the article that had resulted in the reporter's death out of a black duffle bag and laid it on Pamela's desk, '-And it mentioned you, that you were working with the inquires or something. I flew here and managed to get the address of the building you worked at in an internet café at the airport.'

Pam was unconvinced. 'Bourne saw you die. He said so to Nikki.'

'Nikki?'

'Nikki Parsons. She used to work for the same program as him.'

The woman frowned slightly, but explained further. 'When I was pulled out of the river, he was gone, or he'd have seen me. In any case I was revived and…'

It made sense, but Pamela didn't want to concentrate on sense. She wanted to continue cursing whoever did this to her; forced someone like this to show up straight after it was confirmed Bourne was alive.

She took the photo of Jason and Nikki out of the file and passed it to Marie-she might as well accept her identity for now.

Her face lightened considerably. 'When was this taken?'

'Yesterday. In Paris. They're…well, they're on the run.'

'From you?'

Pamela almost told her yes, but something told her not too. An idea, a semblance of a plan that had grown in her head, one she knew she could convince the rest of her team to agree with. One that could maybe, just maybe, work.

'No. We're helping them.'

'How?'

She smiled.

'We're going to help them die.'

* * *

**Royal Hotel**

**Brussels, Belgium**

Nikki flung herself onto the hotel bed with an air of relief. No one had tried to stop her checking in with that passport, and even Jason looked less concerned now than he had before. She pulled her laptop out of the bag that was slung over her shoulder an arranged it on the bed before opening it.

'I want you to log into the database,' Jason was telling her from the other room. 'See if you can find out anything on if they're looking for us or not.'

Nikki nodded, opening the window displaying possible internet connections. She settled on 'RH3FLOOR'. After a few minutes she looked down the small hallway at Jason, fingers hovering over the keys.

'I should log in anonymously, shouldn't I?'

'No.'

Surprised, she sat up a little straighter. 'You were worried that they'd find out about my passport, and now you want me to bleatingly display my name for anyone online at that particular moment to see?'

Jason turned to face her, almost smiling. 'The very fact that they're not outside the hotel right now is evidence enough that either your passport wasn't in their database, or they aren't looking. Besides, I can think of someone seeing your name logged in who would try and help us…'

'I can't.'

'Trust me, okay?'

Nikki still stared at him incredulously, but after a few moments she turned and pressed _log in._

'If this backfires, we are going to be in so much shit.'

* * *

**New York, USA**

To Marie's credit, her face showed no great signs of surprise. Instead she simply clutched the table a little tighter, wincing as pain ebbed into the ridge between her thumb and forefinger.

'And how do you plan to manage staging them?'

'If I knew that, I'd tell you.'

Marie looked away. 'It could work.' she mused quietly. 'It has before.'

'I hope so, for his sake.'

So did Marie.

Pamela looked idly at her computer, opening her mouth to say something. The words died on her lips.

_Users: PLandy, NParsons_

There were more names on the list, but they faded away into a blur.

'What?'

Pamela shook her head. 'For a second I thought…'

But the name remained, didn't disappear or turn out to be a remarkably similar one like she'd though it would. Pam clicked it.

Instantly a small panel of information was brought up. Pamela scrolled down past her picture and statistics. _User last logged in on 14:28. _Displayed by this was her IP address. Paying little attention to Marie's concerned stare, she picked up the phone and dialled one of the technicians.

'Hello?'

'Jacob, it's Landy. I need you to get an address for me. From an IP. Can you do that?'

'Sure.'

She repeated the number as confidently as she could, hearing the distant sounds of keys tap in response.

'That's from…Brussels. Royal Hotel. By the looks of the name, it's a guest-only wi-fi signal throughout the third floor rooms.'

'Thanks.'

'Anytime.'

She hung up, only to met by Marie's curiosity. 'What was that all about?'

'Nikki's logged in. From a hotel in Brussels.'

For a moment Marie looked unsure what to say, and Pamela opened her mouth to explain that this meant David was probably with her. But before she could speak, Marie did.

'Well, what are you waiting for?'

* * *

**Royal Hotel**

**Brussels, Belgium**

The sound of the phone ringing was a quiet, muted tone, one normally incapable of surprising anybody. But still Nikki jumped.

Jason hurried into the bedroom and shot the phone a suspicious glance before examining the number. 'Private,' he read aloud. 'Try answering.'

Nikki did, holding the phone slowly like it was far more dangerous than it looked.

'Hello?'

'Nikki, is that you?'

She blinked. 'Landy?'

Jason tensed, eyes suddenly alert and focused.

'Yes. Are you and David okay?'

'We're fine. How did you get this number?'

'You logged in. I looked up all the identities that had been assigned to you and called the check-in-desk, and one of them was in use there.'

Nikki shot an accusing glance at Jason, before realization dawned. She lifted the phone from her ear slightly. 'Why didn't you just say-'

'Can I speak to David?'

'Hold on.'

She passed the phone to Jason, who took it sharply. 'Pam, what's going on?'

Nikki stared at him with unease, folding her arms across her chest. He listened in silence for a few moments, nodding occasionally. Finally he told her to call them back in ten minutes and hung up.

'Jason?'

'We need to go. Now. Wait until she calls and then--'

Nikki got up, shutting down the lid of her laptop. 'Explain?'

'We need to go to New York.'

'And how do you plan to do that, with our poster in every airport in the country?'

'They're only heavily looking for me in Thailand and France. If we're lucky, and I use a completely different passport, we can get a flight out of here easily. From there…from there, we'll find out what to do next.'

* * *

**Side note: Pamela did not tell Jason that Marie was alive. I couldn't fit that into this part.**

**I'm actually really unhappy with this chapter, so hold back your complaints for now, because I'm sure I agree with them.**

**-Tigeress-10**


	4. Chapter 4

**The chapter lengths are steadily declining. In my weak defence, this is because the time I am getting to write is also declining, at a far quicker rate. The first chapter was written over a period of maybe two weeks, this one I finally got the chance to do just today...**

**Blame Christmas and all that.**

**Good news is I finally get a break from school, so expect a much longer chapter coming much sooner. **

* * *

**New York, USA**

Pamela put down the phone with an air of unease. She didn't know where to begin, and Marie appearing only made everything more complicated.

'He told me to call back in a few minutes.'

Marie nodded dazedly, still concentrating on the file she had grabbed from Pamela's desk. Her face bore no emotion, only a bitter acceptance that Jason had been the cause of the deaths scattered on the pages. 'You didn't mention me,' she said after a moment.

Pamela blinked in slight surprise and sat up a little straighter. She hadn't expected Marie to have wanted her to, and in any case, it wasn't a good idea. 'I know, I'm sorry. I just thought-'

'No.' Marie looked up at Pam and shook her head slowly. 'No, I'm glad you didn't. Right now that will only slow things down.'

Pamela felt a strange sense of gratitude, and opened her mouth to say something-what, she wasn't sure, but the various incidents that had taken place after Marie's apparent death were probably things she wanted to know-but shut it quickly after, instead nodding. 'You should book a hotel room.'

'What, and leave you all to sort out this mess?' Her tone was incredulous, and spawned an equal reaction in Pamela. How exactly did she expect to help, when the slightest reassurance of the fact she was alive could cause twice the amount of trouble they were in now?

'There's nothing you can do for the moment.'

Marie shrugged and stood up, throwing another glance at the file still held in her hand. 'Can I take this?' She paused, and noticing Pamela's confused expression, continued hurriedly, 'I'll bring it back tomorrow. I just want to copy down part of it.'

In any normal case Pamela would have asked why, but this was as far from a normal situation as it could get. She nodded. 'You shouldn't bring it back. We have a copy on our database anyhow, which is much less likely to fall into the wrong hands. You shouldn't stay here either. You should just disappear.'

Marie shook her head again, placing the file and newspaper in her bag and lifting a hand to the door handle. 'I told you, I'll help. When I can.' She opened the door slightly.

'It's not like that. Look, everyone thinks you're dead, getting involved now will only cause confusion, trouble-'

'I've died before. I can do it again.'

And with that she smiled faintly and shut the door, making Pamela's breathing and her phone's dial tone the loudest sounds in the room.

She wasn't sure how long she sat there, but after a few minutes her eyes wandered to her computer screen and she noticed the time. Struck with a sudden idea, she picked up the phone and pressed redial.

It had barely rung once when Jason's attentive voice filled the line. 'Yeah?'

'Listen, for you two to be safe, we need to establish a false location.' Instinctively Pam picked up her ballpoint pen, tapping it against her desk in a steady rhythm. 'I'll talk to the team-see if we can plant information that you guys are halfway across the world, get the French police to patrol there much more heavily and…'

'So I guess no one there thinks I'm a threat that needs to be destroyed, huh?'

The tapping stopped, replaced by a low murmur of 'shit' and more anxious glances thrown at nothing in particular. She hadn't anticipated how she was going to manage that.

'Nikki's passport. It's a Treadstone identity. Inactive, or it would have showed up when you checked in-as it was, I recognized it while calling the hotel. But it's a perfect cover to claim that we need to get everyone zeroed in on that area.'

'Problem is, it's not a cover. We did stay here.'

'By the time they figure that out, you guys will be gone. Leave something incriminating in the bedroom detailing a flight to somewhere you're not going.'

'You think no one will be suspicious if I leave something like that?'

'Trust me. These people like to think they're much smarter than anyone else.'

She rushed on before Jason had a chance to respond. 'Leave tomorrow morning. Drive to the furthest airport in the city, and get a flight to New York. Call me when it lands.'

'They'll see Nikki's passport on the flight. They'll have her name marked down the second we leave the hotel.'

'How long will it take for you to change it?'

'A while.'

'You have until tomorrow morning. Six AM your time, okay?'

'Okay. Thanks, Pam.'

He hung up, and Pamela wasted no time in dialling a different number.

'Johnson, come to my office. Now. I just got of the phone with Bourne.'

- - -

'I still don't understand why you're doing this. I thought you said they didn't deserve it.'

'They don't.' She sighed and turned around. 'But if there's one thing Bourne has taught me, it's that people keep looking. Just look at Abbott. The slightest confirmation that he is alive, and people are on his tail in seconds. The only way to stop them is for him to be dead. Or in this case, to appear to be dead.'

Johnson frowned, not understanding. 'How will setting the police on them help?'

'Nobody is going to believe they're dead unless someone is around to see it. Faking a location will buy them time, during which we will have to plan the easiest way to stage a car crash…something. This has been going on for three years. It's time that it stopped.'

* * *

**Royal Hotel**

**Brussels, Belgium**

Jason handled the knife carefully, each incision slow and precise. Nikki watched from one of the room's single beds. Her legs were curled beneath her and she was trying not to concentrate on the day ahead of them; the sudden hiding she hadn't committed to.

'How much longer is it going to take?'

Jason didn't glance up. 'Not long. You should go to sleep.'

She shook her head but pulled the covers over her anyhow. 'I'm sorry about what I said. About running. I guess it's inevitable sometimes.'

He nodded, finishing another cut. 'Like I said, it gets easier.'

'Not for me.'

Now he looked up, surprised by how sad she sounded, almost mournful. He didn't prompt her, but waited for her to explain further. When she didn't, he returned his attention to her passport.

'It's always been difficult since Treadstone. I shouldn't have joined, but I needed the money and I was smart enough to do the job. It seemed almost harmless before-just monitoring the health of agents. Regardless of what they did, that's all it boiled down to. You were different.'

Jason raised his head again, and Nikki was reminded of how little he remembered about her. The killings might have stuck out in his past, but not much else would.

'You took…you took a much longer time to commit, Conklin told me.' She swallowed and looked down at the bed. 'But once you had, it took you over completely. Some of the other agents had setbacks, temporary flashes of guilt. Not you. You were what they expected you to be…a perfect killer.'

The knife stilled, forgotten. Nikki felt guilty, only now realizing how much words like that would affect him, and crush the feeble hope inside him that somewhere during the course of Treadstone he'd realized it wasn't right. 'What I meant to say is, you were the only person I dealt with who was like that from the very beginning, almost. It was difficult with you, always. I developed my own sense of guilt for my profession, a guilt I could hide around others but not with you. And then you didn't kill Wombosi, and everyone went crazy. Conklin was practically on the verge of forcing me to recount every word I'd ever said to you.' She laughed. 'I was strangely happy when I found out. But then you came back and…its complicated. I've been trying to forget it for so long, but I guess it just catches up to you in the end.'

In the silence that followed Jason did something Nikki didn't expect him to do: he smiled.

'I know the feeling.'

Nikki smiled back and turned away, closing her eyes. More details of his past could come later; she was sure the drive to the airport was going to take awhile. For now she'd have to concentrate on gathering to will to even leave the hotel.

* * *

**In case I don't update before then, happy holidays to everyone, whichever one you celebrate. **

**-Tigeress-10**


	5. Chapter 5

**I was sick all Christmas/day after, but at least I got more chances to write. Hope everyone had a good one!**

* * *

**Brussels, Belgium**

Face pressed against the car's rain-soaked window, Nikki looked almost surprised. She occasionally glanced at other things-the raindrops making patterns on the skylight, Jason's calm expression-but her eyes always fell back to the hotel, and always with the same amount of bitter disbelief.

'You knew they were coming.'

She shrugged, still observing the police cars parked outside the hotel. 'It's still a shock.'

'Relax.' He looked over at her almost defiantly, voice reassuring. 'We're going to get away from it.'

Nikki didn't dare to do anything but hope he was right.

Once the hotel had faded from view she sighed and rummaged in the glove compartment, pulling out a hair tie and a small, blue, metal case. The case, once opened, proved to be full of makeup, which she began applying.

Jason raised his eyebrows. 'Is that really a priority right now?'

'You'd be amazed how little people actually pay attention to your facial features if you're distracting them with makeup,' she responded, fingers smearing on the darkest eye shadow she had. 'It might not work, but it's better than nothing.'

Ignoring Jason's nod of approval, she tied her hair up, letting strands of it fall down and frame her face. 'I couldn't dye my hair,' she said suddenly, sounding more content that displeased with the fact.

'You'll be fine.'

Nikki nodded, placing the case back into the glove compartment. 'What're we gonna do with the car?'

'You'll have to leave it,' Jason responded immediately, grimacing at the thought of forcing yet more people to abandon their possessions simply for their own safety. 'We'll rent one in New York if we need it.'

'I hope it works,' she murmured, now staring at her new passport. 'I hope they don't connect all the dots.'

'Not until we need them to.'

Nikki could have asked hundreds of questions based on his statement, but she chose instead to frown and look out the window.

* * *

**Newark Airport**

**New York, USA**

The plane ride was uneventful, save for Nikki's continued relief that only furthered Jason's guilt. Upon landing, she'd asked him if he had Landy's number with a little too much apprehension.

He nodded. 'I looked it up before we left the hotel.'

She kept her distant from him in the terminal, like she had when they'd bought the plane tickets, like she'd had in the waiting lounge and in any case possible. Blurry CCTV stills of either of them had a lot more potential to amount to nothing than ones of them both together.

Now she stood facing him in one of the airport's many shops, having bought a bottle of water and a newspaper-'To hide my face behind,' she'd explained unnecessarily-and having made use of neither.

'You should call her. Tell her we've made it here okay.'

Jason wasn't concentrating on her. He was staring in the opposite direction, outside the airport's glass sliding doors, at a black SUV parked on the corner of the road and its inhabitants: a woman and a man, both wearing suits and both watching the doors carefully.

'It's nothing,' Nikki told him immediately, pulling his arm and walking towards the exit. 'It can't be them.'

'Never take that many precautions,' Jason responded harshly. 'Don't make eye contact.' He waved down a passing taxi and crammed inside, Nikki still keeping her eyes set ahead. 'Just take us downtown,' Jason told the driver.

The car set off, and Nikki waited a few moments before looking behind her. 'They're following us.'

Jason swore and clenched his fists. 'Look away.'

Nikki did. 'We can loose them,' she said, voice not reassuring.

'We can try.' Jason looked up and passed the driver a little more money than necessary. 'We're being tailed. Can you-'

'Say no more.'

Satisfied, he leaned back in his seat and shot Nikki another look. 'You do look a bit different. Maybe that'll help.'

Nikki nodded with unease and rested her chin in her hand. 'You gonna call Landy?'

* * *

**New York, USA**

'I have no idea who sent them there!'

'Well find out who did and call the whole thing off! You're high enough up, you can do things like that!'

'Not as high as I was before the publication of Blackbriar. Look, Ja-David. I'm sorry. I had no intention of it being like this, I swear. For now all I can do is help you, okay? I'm just trying to do the right thing.'

Pamela heard a frustrated sound on the other end of the line. 'No one ever does…fine. What exactly do you recommend?'

'Stay at completely different hotels. Does Nikki have a cell on her?'

'Yes. I'll text you the number later.'

'Good. Make sure neither of you do anything until I call you and tell you what's safe. Maybe we can work this to our advantage. I can establish that you went to New York all along, which could remove or increase suspicions that I'm on your side-give or take. I'll then find a way to get a false lead on you, one that will invariably end in you both being chased by the police and-'

'You need to remove all traces. Can you destroy me and Nikki's files?'

'I took care of Nikki's already after Vosen was convinced he killed her. Yours… oh shit.'

'What?'

Pamela paced her office furiously, throwing aside various items on her desk and opening drawers. She cursed again and covered the mouthpiece with her hand. 'Godamnit, Marie, how the hell am I going to…'

She sighed and removed her hand. 'It's been taken.'

'By who?'

'An-an employee. My permission. I'll see if they can arrange to meet with you and give it back.'

'What?' Jason sounded incredulous, and Pamela didn't blame him. 'Trust me, David, they're on your side. I'll call you later and arrange a time. Make sure to text me Nikki's number, okay?'

'You better know where you're going with this, Pam.'

'If you two go down, there's a very good chance that I'll go down with you.'

She heard another frustrated noise, and then he hung up. She continued pacing, trying to remember her last conversation with Marie. She should have booked a hotel by now, surely.

The phone rang again. Having not yet put it down, she pressed the answer button.

'Hello? Oh, thank God.'

* * *

**Algonquin Hotel**

**New York, USA**

Nikki had insisted upon waiting with Jason in the lobby until she knew where he was going. They sat on a small leather sofa, a coffee table in front of them and several large plants hiding them from view. He was waiting with a form of anxiety disguised as calm, causing Nikki to continue to prod him with questions.

'Who would she trust enough to give your file to?'

'No one,' Jason responded immediately. 'At least, that's what I hoped. I'm still going to take precautions, either way.'

His phone beeped and he glanced down, pressing a single button. 'Central Park, 1:50.'

'What time is it now?'

'I have ten minutes. I'll call you once I have everything.'

He stood up and disappeared, behind the plants and out the wide, swinging doors. She watched him go and didn't move until one of the hotel staff spoke to her.

She smiled. 'I don't have a reservation, no-I'd like to book a room?'**

* * *

Central Park**

**New York, USA**

Marie stood motionless in the main field, eyes wary, searching. All the visible grass was covered with some form or another of snow, worn by footsteps in places. _'__Don__'__t think that just because you seem to be alone, that you__'__re safe,__'_she remembered Jason telling her. _'__Being the only moving thing in a seemingly deserted place attracts attention. Anyone and everyone that passes will observe you.__'_

She repeated the advice to herself in her head, pulling her coat a little tighter around her. She checked her watch.

1:45.

1:53.

2:01.

Nothing; no trace of anyone else. Marie pulled out the file on Jason from her bag, running a gloved finger across the words and assignments that were all printed carefully in ink. And then she heard a footstep.

She wondered if she was imagining things, but the sound only continued, louder. Crunching in the snow. She kept concentrating on the file as normally as she could.

The footsteps came to a stop, and something was pressed against her back, cold against the warmth of her coat's material.

'I'm gonna need that.'

She didn't know whether to faint with relief or run in fear. She knew that voice. She'd have known it anywhere.

There was silence for what seemed like an eternity before she spoke. 'I know.'

Whatever had been pressed against her-a gun, she guessed-shook slightly. Marie closed her eyes for a moment and slowly turned around, looking at the snow rather than him, her hand that was holding the file extended. When nothing happened, she raised her head slightly.

All Jason could see was her eyes and the lower half of her face, but it was enough. Instinctively he dropped the gun. Marie watched it fall; metallic black against the pure white of the snow. Almost beautiful.

'Take it,' she managed to say, surprised she wasn't shaking as much as his hand was. He did, slowly, holding it for a brief moment before letting it slip from his fingers, eyes never leaving her face.

'I watched…'

Jason didn't finish, and Marie looked up at him, alarmed by his eyes. There was no professionalism in them; no mask; none of the calm precision she associated with him so much. Instead there was a mix of compassion and fear, the same mix she'd seen on the bridge in Goa. The one look that had cost both of them her life.

'I watched you die.'

'I know.' She pulled off one of her gloves and reached up to touch his face, running her finger across the most prominent scar on his cheek and forcing herself not to make an overly-concerned remark. 'But I didn't. I didn't, and I'm fine.'

'You stopped breathing,' Jason whispered, lifting his hand to grasp hers, still shaking slightly.

Marie nodded.

'I thought…'

'I know,' she repeated.

'How did you-'

She shook her head defiantly before he could finish his question.

'It doesn't matter. Listen. I'm here now, okay? For good. I promise.'

Marie's words didn't visibly ease Jason's confusion at first, but slowly he smiled in acceptance-that she was there, alive. That this was real.

She smiled back and threw her arms around his neck, burying her face against his shoulder. He in turn held onto her, tightly, like he thought she might disappear at any moment.

Like he'd never let go.

* * *

**As usual, shorter than I ended, but whatever. And it's not done--I don't know if it sounded like it was in any way, but it's not.**

**Tigeress-10**


	6. Chapter 6

**Happy New Year's everyone!**

* * *

**New York, USA**

'We saw two suspicious figures exiting the airport. The taxi driver took great lengths to evade us-'

'Which he managed, by the looked of it,' Pamela snapped with anger that was half-real, but not for the reasons her supervisors thought. If there was anything she had to keep up now, it was the front that she felt no sympathy for Bourne or Parsons.

The man in front of her bowed his head slightly, annoyed. Pamela didn't know how long he'd been working there; she didn't even know his name. But none of this was important to her in any case.

He looked back up. 'New York is as good a place as any for them to go,' he continued, sounding convincing. Pamela interrupted him again. 'Why's that?'

'Bourne has obvious connections to the place.' The agent shifted in discomfort and looked around the office warily. 'He may also think that you'd help him.'

Pam shook her head, not bothering to protest.

'We're going to cross-check the list of people on the flight from Brussels with the people who've recently checked into hotels in this area.'

'You don't have to-'

'Yes, we do,' he said simply. A pause. 'He's been making a fool out of us for too long.'

'What about Parsons? She's on our side, godamnit. They both are. Just let them live their lives.'

'I have orders from high up to make sure they don't do exactly that.'

* * *

**Algonquin Hotel**

**New York, USA**

_They__'__re coming._

Nikki stared down at her phone in disbelief. She didn't recognize the number, so it couldn't have been Jason's. But maybe he was using someone else's cell.

She glanced around the room, at the beige walls and cream carpet, the white sheets thrown aside in a rush and the single black duffle bag lying on the floor.

She checked to make sure her laptop and passport were still inside, and then she left.

The clicking sound her shoes made against the marble tiles rang too loudly in her head, and when a clerk asked her some meaningless question about housekeeping, her heart jumped in her chest. Once she was finally outside she was looking everywhere, ignoring the busy New Yorkers who bumped into her and searching for something, anything, to inspire fear.

_They__'__re coming._

Nikki shoved her phone into her pocket and fought back the overwhelming urge to crush it underfoot like she had in Tangiers. She wondered idly about where Jason was, and then she felt sick. Jason. Had they caught him and forced her location out of him? She hadn't heard from him since yesterday.

The blaring ring of her cell cut into her thoughts and she looked down in similar disbelief, leaning back against the wall of the hotel.

'Jason?' She sounded almost frantic.

'What's wrong?'

She frowned and continued scanning the street. 'You didn't just text me?'

'No, I-'

Suddenly she spotted the same SUV as she'd seen at the airport, creeping along the road slowly, the driver looking up at the hotel's canopy.

She recognized him.

'Stay wherever you are,' she spoke sharply into the phone, slamming it shut before Jason had a chance to protest.

Nikki felt a rush of gratitude for the crowds, the ones she blended into now, gathering speed every moment a space appeared in front of her. Running.

She considered bitterly that there was no chance to stop doing that now.

Short, cautious looks were vital, and her impatience grew with every one she threw behind her. The SUV was waiting at a light.

Nikki swore and ducked into a bookstore, grabbing a leather-bound volume from the nearest display and covering her face with it before sitting down in a chair enough from the window to still be able to look outside. She watched the car park on the side of the road outside the bookstore, and she saw the woman in the passenger seat get out.

She flipped the book shut and stood up, discarding it on the chair and making her way past the row of bookshelves in front of her. She continued onwards as fast as she could, racing up the stairs, pausing only to look behind her once she was at the top.

She spotted the woman at the front of the bookstore, standing by the displays and scanning the area with precision.

Nikki knew that she was looking for her.

Fighting to stay calm, she turned away ran a little further before ducking behind a new row of bookshelves, crouching down as low as she could. She shifted slightly so that her frame was more or less covered by the shadows. She was at the back of the almost deserted store now, with nothing but an employee's only door to separate her from potential freedom.

She turned around slowly and reached up to grip the handle, feeling the smooth metal underneath her fingers and the rigidness when she tried to turn it. She swore again and began to dig in her pocket for a hair pin, a pen-feeling nothing but the slightly scratched surface of her phone.

Footsteps.

Her breath caught in her chest and she sunk backwards slightly, pressing her back against the wall. The footsteps continued. Then nothing. Her own racing heartbeat seemed to be the loudest sound in the whole room.

She heard a slight crinkle of fabric and then suddenly the phone still beneath her fingers began to vibrate, silent at first, and then loud. Impossible to ignore.

Nikki froze and prayed to whomever was listening for the vibrations to stop, for the woman to stop emerging from behind the bookcase-

Her thoughts were cut short when the woman lunged forward and grabbed her. Nikki let out a yelp of pain, falling hard against the carpeted floor. The corners of a book dug into her spine and she winced, still fighting to keep the woman off her.

Nikki's removed the hand that had been in her pocket, now holding a bobby pin. She managed to lift one of her legs and manoeuvred it underneath her assailant's chest before trying her hardest to kick her. She gasped and fell back. Nikki took the opportunity to turn around and jam the pin furiously into the lock.

The agent tried to grasp onto her arm just as the door came flying open. Nikki lurched forward, dragging them both onto the white linoleum of the corridor. Once she was all the way inside she managed to shut the door, breaking the heel of her attacker's shoe. She grunted and slammed Nikki against one of the walls. Nikki reached up and slipped her earring out of her ear before attempting to dig the metal hook into the woman's neck. She succeeded.

She cried out in pain and moved away from Nikki, hand rubbing desperately at the mark in her neck. The small window of time was enough for Nikki to get to her feet and start running.

She didn't look behind her, not even when she heard the unmistakable sound of the agent getting up. She did look, however, when she felt her leg connect with her own.

Nikki bit her tongue too hard, and she tasted her own metallic blood as a result. Without thinking she lifted her right leg, throwing her assailant off her and causing her to crash against the wall.

Nikki turned around and stared at her. She was breathing slowly, a long gash trailing from one end of her blouse to the other. Blood was etched into her fingernails. Her eyelids were alternating between being closed and half-open, and her mouth was shut tightly.

In spite of her instincts, Nikki bent down, waiting until her attacker's eyes were fully open.

'I don't want to run from you.' She said it slowly in an effort to keep her voice from shaking. She didn't respond, and Nikki continued. 'Stop looking.'

For a moment the woman looked like she was going to say something, but the moment passed and Nikki remembered she was still a threat. She stood up and made her way through the corridor, pushing open the large metal door with a label claiming it was the fire escape.

The sun almost blinded her as the door swung shut behind her. She stayed as long as she could, leaning against the building's wall and trying to regain some sense of sanity.

She wasn't sure if she ever would.

- - -

Once she'd finally made it too the street, the first thing Nikki did was search for the car. She saw it where it had been minutes ago; parked by the bookstore. She shuddered slightly as she examined the driver, recognizing the cold calculation in his eyes and the impatience in his frame. He was staring at the bookstore's entrance, frowning heavily. For a second Nikki felt a little guilty. And suddenly his eyes were on hers, and the fact that they were so far away from each other didn't matter: he knew. In one single moment of their eyes locking, he knew that she'd won.

Nikki didn't move, not even when she felt that she could, not when the fear creeping up her subsided slightly. She kept staring at him. Her hands shook slightly, but she tried to appear calm.

She noticed a flash of anger flood his face and the fear in her chest rose up, choking her, freezing her to the spot.

'Nikki!'

She turned her head abruptly and saw a taxi pulling over by the curb, saw Jason's frantic face as he looked at her through the open window. 'What the hell are you doing?'

'I didn't…'

'Get in.'

She pulled open the passenger door and slid inside, only now noticing the woman sitting in the back. She was looking at Nikki with an anxiety more calmer than Jason's, reaching out for her shoulder. 'You're hurt. What happened?'

Nikki opened her mouth to explain but then froze, a single memory flitting through her mind. Those wanted posters she made so long ago, the grainy picture of Jason and-

'Marie Kreutz?'

She nodded in an offhand kind of fashion and continued to look at Nikki closely. 'Jason said there was someone with the driver at the airport. A woman. Did she do this?' She gestured to one of the cuts on Nikki's still-red hands.

'Yes. She's more hurt than me, though. I left her in the corridor…but then her partner saw me.'

Jason said something to the driver and looked back at them. 'He probably saw you getting into this taxi too.'

'He won't follow me. He'll make sure she's okay first.'

Jason looked relieved for a moment, but it faded. 'What did you say about someone texting you?'

'I got a text this morning saying "they're coming". I didn't recognize the number.'

'It was probably Pam, then.'

'Look, both of you go back to my hotel-I'll give you my room card-Nikki, make sure you treat all your wounds, there's a first-aid kit underneath the sink. I'll go and see Pamela-'

'How are you going to manage that?' Nikki asked, still in disbelief that she was even there, much less in a position to waltz into Pamela Landy's office. Marie smiled.

'Because I'm the only one who can walk into that building without being shot at in seconds.'

Nikki paused, returning her smile. 'True.'

* * *

**New York, USA**

Pamela hadn't heard of Nikki's fate. She'd texted her with the only warning she could bring and hoped for the best. Now the hope seemed a little stronger once faced with reports that the two agents sent to apprehend her had disappeared.

The sight of Marie entering her office and telling her what had happened, however, was far more comforting than any hope. Pamela allowed herself to sigh in relief and ease the tension in her muscles, sinking back into her chair.

'Where are they now?'

'My hotel. But they can't stay there for long-the agents are bound to show up again, coupled with even more evidence that the two of them are a threat.'

Pam nodded, sliding the sheet on her desk across the table. Marie took it. 'That's the order they were given,' Pamela explained.

'Go into the area given in the obtained whereabouts of Nikki Parsons' hotel. Go into the hotel if necessary, if not, wait in a secluded area in your car. Use violence only if needed-' Marie looked up, anger clouding her face. 'It wasn't necessary. Nikki didn't give her any reason to think she'd hurt her, not until she'd been hurt first.'

'It is too them.'

'She said something, too-Nikki told her to stop looking. For good. And she presumably passed out or wasn't strong enough to go back to her car, which was right outside the shop. The driver saw Nikki and realized what had happened, but he didn't try to follow us.'

'I sincerely doubt they'll head to her words. Maybe they'll be called off the case, but someone else will be sent to guard the area. There is no way either Nikki or Jason can go anywhere near there, or they'll be apprehended within seconds.'

Marie smiled, startling Pamela. She sat up straighter, surprised further still at Marie's next words: 'Good.'

'Good?'

'I thought you said we were going to help them die.'

'Not like that.' Pamela shook her head quickly, hands flat against the wood of her desk. 'There's no way they'll be able to survive that.'

'They've survived worse.'

'But-'

'Think about it. The slightest appearance in the area, and they have any number of people after them. People that will testify as witnesses when their car goes out of control, swerves onto a deserted field. Bodies or not, the logical conclusion will be that they're dead.'

Pamela paused, considering.

'It might work.'

* * *

**Sorry, Nikki's reaction to Marie was a bit more 'ah...okay' than planned. I debated how to do this, and amusing as a jealous/etc reaction would have been, it wouldn't fit in well. In my defence, she was a little too shaken by her previous encouter than too be shaken by anything else.**

**-Tigeress-10**


	7. Chapter 7

**This chapter is more of a filler than anything else, the reason being I have sevre computer issues--the moniter of my laptop is three inches away from snapping off. And it will, very soon. I have taken the precauiton of copying all my writing to a disk, so I will be able to continue this, but until then, I'm just uploading whatever I managed to come up with in the space of a day. **

**(Note to all: When dropping laptop, make sure you haven't created any huge potentially unrepairable cracks in the frame. Don't realize you have a few weeks after said drop.)**

* * *

**Soho Grand**

**New York, USA**

A faint frown highlighted Nikki's face as she stared in the mirror, pulling up her shirt with one hand and her too-long hair with the other. Her biggest scar lay underneath her shoulder blade, stretching down to the edge of her hip. Every time she bent down she felt a new rush of pain.

It was this, along with any other reason she could dredge up, that prompted Marie's insistence that Nikki needed to rest for a few days.

The first few times Jason had been the one to argue, claiming that they needed to end it as soon as possible. But one tentative and almost accusing look from Marie and his voice faltered; one wince of pain from Nikki whenever she was forced to move and he backed down completely.

Jason spent most of his time mulling over his own file, despite his previous wants to destroy it. Occasionally he'd work on Nikki's passport, cutting lines that looked less and less convincing but still served their purpose well enough. An awkwardness had eased between them all at some point, which resulted in Jason performing all activities entirely in one of the suite's two bedrooms.

The first two days subsided Nikki's pain, a pain that caused her to completely ignore the tension of Marie's constant planning and insistences that 'locations are important'. Marie spent hours marking various cities on a map, often asking Nikki questions about where she went before, what had made her feel safe enough to come back to Paris. If she'd gone anywhere else in between.

Nikki's answers spawned frowns and shakes of heads, yet more places to be crossed out. Uruguay turned out to be too close to or too much like a number of cities, and anywhere in South America was risky anyway.

Many hours and failed attempts at questioning later, she'd decided on a location.

'Aydin.'

Nikki shifted her weight slightly from her position on the couch, bending her head down so she could see the map spread out across the carpet. 'Turkey?'

'Have you been there before?'

'A few times.'

Marie looked disappointed. 'Maybe we shouldn't-'

'No,' Nikki cut in quickly, realizing her mistake. 'No. It's fine. I had a relative who used to live there. And I went there when I was younger. Before Treadstone. And she doesn't live there anymore.'

Finally Marie nodded hesitantly. 'I guess you'll have no problem getting in, then.'

'I shouldn't.'

Nikki averted her gaze to the mirror, observing the dark shadows underneath her eyes and limp hair. She would've dyed it if being recognized wasn't so vital for the next few days.

'What about you?' she asked after a moment, anticipating the strained silence that had followed.

'An island,' Mare responded quietly, moving her finger from Aydin. 'In Greece. I didn't want too…I mean, they found me in Greece when I was there last time. But this time they're not looking, and it's a different island.'

Her voice sounded almost hoarse, tired. She rubbed along her neck with her free hand and shot a glance at the phone. 'I need to call a taxi company, and get one to pick me up early tomorrow morning…'

'Tomorrow?'

Both women looked up in surprise at Jason, who'd opened the door silently and was standing in the room with a strange expression.

'We have to. Nikki doesn't feel as bad as she did, and if we wait any longer they might stop patrolling the area.' Marie sounded almost pleading, but the logic of her statement would have made an impact regardless.

Nikki nodded in an unnecessary agreement, before slowly sitting up. 'My muscles aren't as stuff anymore. They'll be fine tomorrow morning.'

He nodded slowly, an alien movement. He backed out of the room and shut the door. Marie watched him go, frowning. She stood up and made her way to phone, pressing a single button and holding the phone to her ear.

'Hello, directory? Could you please give me the number for…'

Nikki stopped listening, focusing instead on the brown carpet and map that lay atop it. Aydin. Truth be told, she liked it there.

But she was a lot more scared about leaving than she should have been.

- - -

Marie wasn't surprised to see how dark the room was upon entering; the only light was that cast from the alarm clock which she bent over now. Slowly she fiddled with the buttons, straining to see them in the dim light. Satisfied with the alarm settings, she turned her attention to the light, feeling around for the switch.

Once it had flicked on she sat down on the bed, leaning back slightly against the headboard and feeling Jason's fingers touch her shoulder. She turned her head to look at him.

'Is everything okay?'

'The taxi's booked,' Marie answered, sliding further down to rest her head against his chest. 'And I called the airport, there's a flight to Evia leaving at seven. From there I can get a ferry.'

'What time does the taxi get here?'

'Early.'

'You should rest.'

She shrugged, letting silence lapse for a moment.

'Is Nikki asleep?'

'Yes. She's fine.'

'Good.'

Jason heard the reassurance in her voice and smiled, leaning over to turn off the light. Tomorrow was inevitable, but with that remained a continued hope for freedom. Hope that was struggling to become a reality.

* * *

**New York, USA**

Quick, hurried steps along the pavement.

Nikki fumbled with something, the buttons of her coat, her watch, it didn't matter. 'Jason-' short, desperate-sounding words that made him want to stop and go slower. 'Jason, wait.'

He loosened his hold on her arm and felt guilty when he realized how tightly he'd been holding it. 'Wait.' Calmer.

Jason looked up and down the street, deliberately avoiding the hotel behind them. Nothing was there; and everything of value had been packed.

Cars. He'd tried to stop his mind planning ahead and forcing out all the details, but now they were important. They couldn't take anything in broad daylight.

'Where?'

'Is there a parking lot nearby?'

'Next block down-Jason…' He'd grabbed her arm again, an instinctual action. 'Jason, relax.'

'Sorry.' The single word didn't mean much, but he slowed his pace as much as he could.

Each face posed danger, a threat, each one needed to be examined before being disregarded. His eyes rested not on Nikki but on their surroundings. Jason was thankful this was New York, not a strange unfamiliar city that he'd have to learn about as he went.

'Next corner.'

She sounded too quiet, too calm. Jason wondered idly if Marie had asked her to try and remain so.

He pushed any other thoughts out of his head and made his way into car park's entrance. Nikki's shoes made crunching sounds in the gravel as she pressed herself against the wall. 'There's a tollbooth.'

'Is anyone in there?'

She extracted herself from the wall and peered around slowly. 'No.'

He was off again, searching as the noon light filtered in through the entrance.

'There's an Explorer over here,' Nikki called out to his retreating form, bending down in front of the car.

'What state?'

She tucked a strand of hair behind her ears and looked closer. 'Not too bad. Lots of paint scratches and-there's a bump in the left door. Whoever owns it must not take care of it enough to install an alarm, let alone drive safely…'

'Move aside.'

Nikki jumped, having not heard Jason come behind her. He threw her an apologetic look and stood slightly behind the car's window, arching his arm outwards.

Nikki winced and pressed herself against the wall, the sound of class shattering ringing in her head. She waited with her mouth open, breathing still.

'No alarm,' she said after a moment, relieved. Jason's hand was inside the car, pressing at the handle. He pulled it back out and slid the door to the right. 'Get in.'

She did, clambering loosely into the passenger seat. 'Can you-'

She didn't get a chance to finish her sentence before Jason was knelt on the other side, hands pulling and fiddling with wires. She heard a spark, a crackle, and then the hum of the engine.

Still breathless, Nikki watched Jason sit up and grip the wheel. She tried to smile in relief but succeeded only in looking worried.

'Where to?'

'They'll be parked somewhere along 44th.'

He nodded, looking behind him and shifting the car into reverse.

'Nikki?'

'Yes?'

'This time, don't duck.'

* * *

**I have never hotwired a car, so that probably didn't make any sense.**

**-Tigeress-10**


	8. Chapter 8

**Almost done! Only the epilouge to go, which has been implanted in my brain since I started this story, so it should be easy to finish.**

**Thanks to everyone who reveiewed/faved/alerted so far!

* * *

New York, USA**

The car crawled along the street at an annoyingly slow rate. 'Typical New York traffic,' Nikki murmured.

'Sorry?'

'Nothing.'

She glanced down at her shoes and slightly dirty jeans, running a finger over them. 'Do you have any form of plan?'

'I usually don't.'

'Right. That's how you end up jumping ten stories into a river: having no idea of a plan.'

'It should work out better this time.'

She shook her head, smiling slightly.

Silence followed, broken suddenly by Nikki jumping up. 'There!'

Jason drew back in surprise for a second before looking back to the road. His eyes fell onto the same SUV he'd seen previously, parked along the side of the road.

'I recognize the driver,' Nikki told him, craning her neck forward.

'Will he recognize you?'

'He should.'

'Keep looking at him.'

The traffic shifted slightly.

'Is there anyone else in the car?'

'No. I'm guessing they have others stationed around the block.'

'Get closer.'

The car swerved slightly to the left and Nikki jumped back, suddenly frightened. 'Jason, if we let them see us now, we're dead. Wait till the traffic clears up ahead to make any form of eye contact.'

'We may not have time,' Jason told her, eyes set straight ahead, mouth firm.

'Just keep driving.'

The car moved forward, slowly, and Nikki stretched out across the seat, turning around and craning her head to see the offending vehicle. Her previous attacker wasn't there, and the realisation spawned a momentary flash of guilt.

'Nikki?' The car was moving faster now, away from the street. Nikki didn't answer, moving her head closer to the rear window, waiting.

The driver was scanning the area, eyes never staying on one place for long. He was heavily-built, with dark skin and hair, and an unrelenting cruelty in his eyes.

Nikki's guilt turned momentarily to fear, and then his eyes met hers.

'Nikki?'

'Go,' she whispered; the car had stilled slightly and the drivers behind them looked annoyed.

'Do you see-'

'Jason, go!'

He drove off as fast as she could and Nikki sunk back into her original position, staring at the rear-view mirror. 'He's pulling out,' she managed to say. 'It looks like he's talking into a headset-'

Her words were cut off by their car turning a little too sharply. The brakes squeaked in response. When Jason spoke his voice was unnaturally calm. 'Is he headed for us?'

'He's not going to let him self get stuck in traffic, that's for sure.'

'It's too crowded here, too public. He won't try anything until we're in a more secluded street.'

'Then let's lead him there.'

Jason glanced up at her for one moment, taking in her shaking voice and precise expression.

He pressed down harder on the pedal.

* * *

**New York, USA**

'Mobile One has a confirmed sighting, I repeat…'

Pamela stood firmly in the middle of the room, arms folded across her chest, eyes glaring at the number of monitors all displaying a map of New York, each map partially covered by photos and transmissions and other gathered material.

'Is he calling for backup?' she asked, raising her voice above the noisy atmosphere of fingers tapping on keyboards and orders shouted into headsets.

'You see that?', coupled with a finger pointing towards a red-dotted location on a map, was her only reply. 'There's a grey van parked alongside East 46th. Parsons' previous hotel's address was 59 West 44th…'

'Why would they go back?'

Pamela looked to see who had voiced the question. Another member of the team trying to track them. 'They know you'd be watching. It feels like a set-up to me.'

'No,' Pamela cut in quickly. 'They're not thinking straight, they're scared. If I know Parsons, she was probably pulled into this not entirely with her consent, and is only staying because she won't be alive otherwise. For now, Bourne's main concern is her, and it's clouding his judgement.'

'They don't do things like that,' the employee continued to insist. 'They don't let anything cloud their judgment.

'Bourne's different.' How effectively Pamela managed to lie had no bearing on what was soon going to happen, she knew. But she could try anyhow. 'He tries not to be a part of "they".'

Her words had the desired effect-the man didn't say anything else.

Pamela heard a voice play over the loudspeakers and turned, watching as the screens filled up with measurement of the speaker's tone and stress.

'Target heading down West 46th. Back-up has been requested..'

The screens switched to be filled with an aerial view of New York. Pamela bent closer to the nearest monitor, a frown spreading across her face.

'46th is undergoing road construction. It'll be a dead end…'

No further voice came from the loudspeakers for a few moments. Pam trailed her gaze along the wires to see the phone they were connected too; it lay on the desk in the centre of the room. She made her way towards it. 'It's a dead end,' she spoke loudly into the receiver.

The agent swore, the sound vibrating thickly off the speakers. The solitary screen that was still displaying voice stress monitored the abrupt change in composure. 'Authentic shock,' the woman mouthed to Pamela.

'Calm down. This will be easy. They're already trapped, you just need to-' Pam's calm voice did not match her own heart, which was beating as fast as it had when Nikki and Bourne's death had been reported by Desh's phone. _Trapped._

'They're not here.'

'They're not-what do you mean by "here"?' She demanded angrily.

'I'm on West 64th now, and I see the construction workers, but they're not here.'

In spite of the situation, she was hopeful. 'What other streets could they have gone down?'

'Lots, but none that quickly. The traffic in the diversion is at a standstill. Hold on, I see them-wait…holy-'

The lines flashing across the voice monitoring screen suddenly went haywire. Pamela braced herself.

'That's not their car.'

'_What_?'

'It's the same model but it's not their car! I can see through the back window from here, and the occupants are not the targets!'

'Well where are they, then?'

'I don't know, they must have…' realization seemed to sink in. 'They must not have turned down this road at all, they must've seen the chance to…we've lost them.'

* * *

**New York, USA**

'We're lucky, you know.'

'Don't confuse luck with skill.'

'How exactly is it a matter of skill that the same car model as ours happened to be driving near to us?'

Jason didn't answer. He still didn't consider himself completely out of danger-in hindsight, Nikki doubted this was something he ever considered-and was continuing to drive across the roads carefully, always looking out each window.

'Why don't we just bail now?'

'If that was the point of this, I'd have left you in Brussels.' Jason met Nikki's stare now. 'Nobody looks for a corpse, remember?'

Nikki sunk back in her seat for what felt like the thousandth time that day. 'I remember,' she replied bitterly.

'We did need to lose them, though. But we need to catch their attention again.'

'And lose it after that?'

'Now you're getting it.' His mouth was set in a grim smile.

'What exactly is the-'

Before she could finish the car was skirting forward at twice the usual speed through the deserted road. Nikki swore she could hear the scrape of metal against metal as the car nearly collided with all the other ones that were parked.

'They've found us,' Jason was saying, still griping the wheel as tightly as ever.

'I guessed.'

'Turn around.'

'Jason, I think they're smarter than that.'

'I don't.'

Still worried, Nikki did as obeyed, feeling the familiar shudder down her spine as her eyes met the driver's. She turned away as quickly as she could.

'Did you act worried?'

'I didn't have to act that part.'

Jason threw her a guilty look, still tearing across the road. 'There's a hard turn coming up, and then we need to lose him around a corner.'

'What about backup?'

'They'll be useful too, but only in discovering the car's aflame remains.'

Nikki nodded and turned away, watching the street blur past. She froze.

'Did you say…did you say "_aflame__"_?'

* * *

**New York, USA**

'They're right in front of me.'

He sounded triumphant, and Pamela could envision him all too clearly: hard build and frame, dark smile shooting across his face. _He__'__s probably reaching for his gun now._

'Are you sure?'

'Yes. _She_-' he spat out the word as if it were a bad aftertaste, '-turned around.'

An unsure atmosphere rises with this. Pamela can feel it in the air; she does not need to ask any questions to confirm it. She glared at the inquisitive mouths that were already opening.

'Nikki has a tendency to freak out easily,' she half-lied.

'They don't have much further. We'll reach the main stretch of roads soon, they'll have to slow down.'

'Okay. Just keep tailing them as long as you can.'

'And when I apprehend them?'

Pamela's lip curled.

'We'll talk about that later. Where are they now?'

'Close. They're just turning a corner now.'

'Follow them.'

* * *

**New York, USA**

'Hold tight.'

The words didn't come in time for Nikki's preparation, which included gripping onto her seat as tightly as possible and letting a strangled sound escape her throat as the car shot forward.

This time the screech of metal against the concrete was unmistakable. Jason slammed down his foot as far as it could go on the pedals, making another sharp turn.

'Where the hell are you going?'

'Over there.'

And then Nikki spotted it; a park, cold and snowy and solitary. As they sped closer she saw something else, as well.

A low stone wall.

'Open the door,' Jason told her.

She did so with all her remaining strength, holding the handle and pushing the door open very slightly. 'This better work.'

'No one's behind us, are they?'

Nikki didn't answer, still staring ahead. The door slid open a little further and suddenly the crash was unavoidable.

'Now!'

Nikki felt Jason lean over her, shoving her hands further across the door. Her shirt caught on the gear. She winced when she heard the ripping sound.

And then suddenly there was nothing but blinding white snow, a jarring movement rocking the whole car, the thud of their forms tumbling down into the endless white-

Nikki tasted blood before the smoke had a chance to engulf her; felt pain from the moment she tumbled out of the car. For a few seconds she alternated between coughing and gasping, trying desperately to crawl forward.

She felt Jason's hand grip her arm weakly and drag her. Still spluttering, she managed to follow him, knees digging into the snow.

The smoke didn't clear, rather, it grew. Covered the entire car, even. If Nikki tried hard enough, she could make out the outline of the door that had been pushed open by Jason in a frantic attempt to escape. The flames, bright and spitting sparks, aiming towards the sky.

Instead she directed her gaze ahead, away from the drifting smoke and out onto the deserted street. Her mind was too full of pain to consider what to do next, but she knew Jason was calculating every step.

'Cover,' she choked out. The grip around her arm tightened, suddenly pulling her higher. She managed to stand only with Jason supporting her.

The smoke still threatened to cover everything, along with the flames, but she made out a building in the distance. Nikki couldn't tell what it was, only that Jason was dragging her towards it.

She was limping, but the coughing had subsided. The building grew closer and she saw a sign claiming it was a public restroom. 'This will be the first place they look,' she whispered, wincing as pain flooded her face with every movement of her lips. Raising q finger to her chin, she realized she had a new scar, fresh and darting along her jaw.

'Not thoroughly,' Jason grunted in response. They were in front of the stone enclosure now. Nikki saw two doors. Jason shoved one of them open, forcing her inside.

'You're bleeding.'

'Shit, shit, _shit._' New pain rose with the words, and Nikki half-wondered why she'd bothered saying them.

'We have a few minutes still.' Jason looked fine for the most part, but maybe it was simply because his expressions weren't filled with the same agony as hers. He let go of her arm. 'Go and get some water on that cut.' He nodded towards the sinks.

'Is that going to help?'

'It should.' His eyes had not lost their calculation.

Nikki didn't remember anything clearly after that, just that the throbbing ache in her limbs subsided slightly once Jason had let go of her, and that the various cuts on her face also felt cooled by the pressure of the cold water against them.

'We need to hide. Now.'

She didn't let him get a hold of her this time, cramming into one of the bathroom's small stalls herself. She allowed herself to be grateful that they'd entered the women's section as the wooden door slammed behind her.

'Crouch on the seat-'

'I am,' Nikki interrupted him, pressing as much of herself as she could against the wall behind her. After that there was no sound but Jason's own stall door shutting and her too-loud breathing, which she tried to keep steady.

A footstep.

An image suddenly threw itself with full force into Nikki's mind: the CIA agent that had attacked her, the lunge that had sent Nikki knocking backwards. The idea of repeating the scenario did not go down well in her mind.

She heard another footstep and harsh, ragged breathing. Not her own, and not Jason's.

Suddenly the unmistakable sound of a door being pushed open. It slammed against the opposite stall's toilet and Nikki froze. _Shit, Jason_-

Another slam, another crack of wood against metal.

Again.

Again.

Then nothing, save for the continued jagged breathing. Swearing. The voice was male, but not recognizable. Nikki doubted she'd have recognized it regardless.

More footsteps, and then another long stretch of silence.

It was only then that Nikki realised that she'd been holding her breath. She released it, sinking back down against the toilet and feeling tears cloud at her eyes.

The stall door opened slowly. Nikki didn't think she'd been more happy to see Jason in her life.

He gave her one look, taking in her hopeless appearance. He frowned. 'Are you…' he hesitated, as though the word 'okay' would be useless to use.

'I'm fine,' Nikki lied, rubbing angrily at the few tears that had made it past her cheeks. 'Just…shaken.' Her breath caught again. 'The door opened, and I thought he'd found you. I thought he'd…'

'I know.' Jason extended his arm and this time Nikki took it, clambering off the seat hurriedly.

'It's okay.' His voice sounded too reassuring not to calm her down at least a little.

Nikki saw a blurred, muddy footprint along the floor. 'Did he leave that?'

'Doesn't matter.'

Nikki decided not to ask anything else, preferring instead to stare out among the dull, grey winter light that was sweeping through the door as Jason opened it.

'It's all over now,' he assured her just as calmly, letting go of her arm only when she had stepped outside.

* * *

**-Tigeress-10**


	9. Epilogue

**insert obligatory 'YES I'M DONE' comment here****

* * *

****New York, USA**

It had been a week. A week of countless research, investigation, and furthered arguments on what exactly to do with Jason Bourne.

This in itself was like any other week. The only different part was that now, people agreed with her.

'_Are you still looking for Bourne? I thought the case was closed.'_

It was. Finally.

The inquest had turned up nothing but heavily burnt scraps of fabric and the wreckage of their vehicle. The incisions along the scraps were too jagged to be cut deliberately, and by all accounts the car had simply swerved out of control and crashed.

Tired with the constant flow of uninterrupted questions and theories about Bourne's disappearance, the teams working around him had simply given up, under order by their supervisors based on popular vote. As far as they were concerned, he and Parsons were dead. To suggest otherwise would earn nothing but perhaps angry looks from Landy's direction.

'_I've spent three years running. Three years trying to find out who I am.'_

The same three years, while not as excruciating for Pamela as they had been for him, were also filled with the same frantic searching and desperation. It had taken its toll on everyone involved-resulting in countless deaths and arrests, even. To continue such a thing would be insane. Useless.

And everyone else was just beginning to see it.

Pamela was more relieved than she had the right to be, considering. But life had been almost _normal_ during the last few days of that week. Marie had called, questioning the outcomes that had not yet made it to the news in Europe. She too shared in Pamela's relief, and thanked her continuously for helping them all so much.

That been the day after the accident, and Pam was not anticipating further phone calls.

Her anticipation proved wrong.

'Hello?' She had not checked the number to see if it was someone from her building, but the voice that answered informed her with full certainty that it was not.

'I hear you've stopped looking for me.'

A smile flitted across her face quickly at the reminder of their conversation two years ago. 'We try to keep whom we look for limited to those living.'

'I'm getting better at dying, aren't I?'

'You've had more practice.'

'I think that will be the last time for a while.'

'I'm glad to hear that.'

Pamela examined the number of her phone now. 'You're calling from…?'

'Turkey.'

'Is Nikki safe?'

'She's trying to arrange for accommodation now. I'll drop her off, and then…'

He didn't reply for a few moments. 'And then?'

'Well, that depends on what you tell me.'

It took a few moments for Pam to understand, and then she was searching her desk for a notepad. She found the one she'd been using for the past few days and flicked through it too the most recent mark. 'Chios. Kambos, to be specific.'

'Kambos?'

'It's on the east coast.'

'Good. I can get a ferry straight there.'

There was another moment of silence, and then Jason spoke again, sounding perplexed. 'Has everything been okay for you?'

'You mean, job-wise?'

'Yes.'

'If you ever have the chance to ask me that again after today, the answer will probably be that I've retired early.'

Pamela could almost detect the faint smile in his voice when he spoke again. 'I'll try not to.'

The perplexed voice returned. 'I'm going to destroy the files Marie gave me.'

Pamela dropped the pen she had picked up. She did not bother to retrieve it, instead staring at the phone incredulously. 'Really? You sure?'

'Why not?'

'They're the only thing you have left in reference to your past.'

'Exactly.'

She considered it for a few moments, leaning back in her chair and spinning around to face the window and the wide view of New York below it. It took a few minutes to shake off the feeling that Jason was watching her again, smiling at the emotions displayed so obviously across her face.

'It makes sense,' she told him, slowly.

'Pam, I am grateful for what you have done, and so, I'm sure, is Nikki. I know I'm not in a position to reciprocate anything you've done for me-lately, I seem to only make it worse-but without you, we would undoubtedly be dead or arrested.'

'You fared pretty well on your own.'

'I'm-we're-grateful regardless.'

Pamela did not speak for a moment, still examining the skyline. 'It's almost disappointing to know you're not going to make some thinly veiled reference to the fact that you are within 200 ft of me, you know.'

'I'm not. And Nikki's found an apartment, so I'm going to have to go before I get cut off. Goodbye. Thank you.'

'Try not to kill someone highly important within the next few years?'

'Can't promise anything. I'll try.'

The line cut short suddenly.

Pamela took too long to put the phone down, too long to bend down and finally retrieve the pen. Her relief still remained, which was a good sign. The pen had slid from her fingers again, which was not.

She whirled around in her seat, uneasy and not sure what she was looking for.

The realization surprised her: she was not looking for Jason.

She did not want to see him, hear his voice, or know that he was there. The idea of their worlds entwining could been only bad for them both.

'_Can't promise anything. I'll try.'_

Perhaps, she considered, gaze still full of the sprawling city, perhaps for now, trying was enough.

* * *

**Aydin, Turkey**

Nikki liked her apartment. She liked the beige walls and carpet, the rust-coloured furniture, the old fashioned wooden window frames and the way sunlight seemed to flood from everywhere that it could.

Now, she was stretched out on the only bed, a duffel bag beside her. Her clothes were new and no longer tainted with dirt, blood, and snow. All of these were simply reminders of something she'd finally left behind.

Jason did not sit, he hovered. In the doorway when she first walked in, in the hallway while she admired the kitchen, and now in the only bedroom while she took solace in the first chance at relaxations she could find.

'You like it?'

Nikki found the answer to be obviously displayed in her posture and previous actions, especially to a trained assassin, but she raised her eyebrows and reassured him she did anyway.

'Good. You're lucky you found such a nice place on such short notice.'

'And you?'

Jason seemed surprised by the change of conversation but he responded, shrugging as nonchalantly as possible. 'Landy said something about Kambos.'

'I'm guessing you already know which boat you're going to get on?'

'I might.' His smile seemed genuine. Nikki allowed herself to think that it was.

'Did I ever get a chance to thank y-'

'Don't,' he cut in quickly, shaking his head. 'I didn't do anything.'

'You saved my life,' Nikki said seriously.

'No more than Marie or Pamela did. Thank them.'

'I did. But I'm not worried about either of them. Marie has you, and Pamela…well, Pamela _doesn__'__t_ have you, which is essentially what she wants. And you have a file that's driving you insane.'

'No, it's not.'

Nikki sat up then, eyes having lost their carefree glimmer. 'There's more than just killing to David Webb. I didn't know you well before, like I said, but there are things I observed and was told from others, and-'

'I don't want to know them.'

He looked convinced. Nikki gave up the argument in advance.

'You sure?' it was a desperate attempt, and she wasn't surprised when Jason again shook his head. 'Why not?'

'There's no-' he hesitated, as if trying to find the right word. 'No point to it. I know enough about my past to leave it behind now. I know enough about how I am now than to care about whoever I was.'

Silence followed.

'And what about you? Do you expect to stay here for the time being?'

'Maybe. Who knows?' She looked out the window. 'I can make another passport and go anywhere I want…but I think I'll stay here for as long as I can.'

'They're not going to come for you.'

The smile was back. 'I know.'

Jason looked down at his watch. 'I have twenty minutes to get to the dock.'

'Knowing you, you could make it in five.' Nikki slid of the bed and followed him through the hallway, pausing at the door awkwardly. 'Visit, okay?' she said abruptly. 'Just to make sure that you haven't gotten yourself killed for the fourth time or something.'

'I will.'

'And _don__'__t_ get yourself killed.'

'People assume that I'll do that a lot.'

'I wonder why.'

Jason had opened the door slightly; a warm breeze was drifting into the room. Nikki laughed.

'You know what? You were right.'

'I was?'

'Yeah. It does get easier.'

His replying grin seemed brighter than the endless sunlight around them.

* * *

**Chios, Greece**

Marie sighed, an action brought on by a mixture of lack of sleep and anticipation. She was listening to a news report on the crash that she'd heard countless times now. The first time had brought relief, now it only annoyed her.

She raised her eyes from the TV to the clock hanging above the counter, and then to the folded, crumpled, re-read and re-read leaflet in her hand displaying boat arrival times.

An hour ago.

Marie's face brightened and she slipped off her place on the stool, waving at one of the waiters in thanks. She made her way amongst the crowded tables as quickly as possible before heading out the door.

Normally she would have explored the sprawling marketplace further, taking delight in every stall and piece of jewellery that adorned them. Now she continued walking at a quicker pace, eyes set towards the field that curved behind one of the islands' many beaches.

She wasn't sure how long she walked, but she stopped occasionally, if only to look around and try to ease her racing pulse. She liked it here, liked standing in the bushy grass and admiring the ocean in the distance.

The first thing she saw was smoke, barely visible amongst the bushes. The second thing she saw was the cause of the smoke: a small fire containing black remains of paper. She inched closer and managed to see 'target' on one of the pages, along with a figure crouched in front of the fire.

A twig snapped underneath Marie's foot, and she saw his hand shoot into his pocket. He stilled. She pressed slightly harder on the broken pieces of twig, causing them to snap again. He spun around, and still Marie stayed, frozen to the spot.

Relief filled both faces.

'You made the news,' Marie said, still smiling.

'I did?'

'Yep.' She laughed and cleared the distance between them, slipping an arm around his waist and looking back down towards the fire. 'Something tells me I'm better at being dead and not making an appearance on all major news networks than you are.'

Jason grinned in response, but Marie didn't see it, still concentrating on the papers disappearing beneath the flames. She frowned lightly and bent down, reaching out to feel the branches entwined with the disappearing ink.

'Poor Landy went through a lot of hell to get these to me, you know.'

'Liar. She's glad that I'm rid of them.'

Marie raised her eyes back to his. 'Are you?'

'Not really. I've spent every second I can looking at that file, memorizing the names, dredging up yet more memories. But before that, nothing. All I know of David Webb is that he gave up his life to become a killer.'

'Surely there's a way to find more?'

'Nikki asked, but I didn't…I didn't want to know. What good would it have done? I left that life. There was a time when I wanted to understand it more, but I never liked what I found out to begin with.'

'There could've been better things to remember,' Marie argued. 'Good things.'

'There could've been.'

His tone did not imply that if he cared if they were.

'I tried…' Marie glanced in the direction of the disappearing file. 'I tried to give you a past when I gave that to you. If anything, it filled in some of the gaps. But it doesn't tell you who you are. It tells you who you choose not to be. Remember that.'

She rose up from her crouching position as she spoke, a smile replacing her previous frown.

Jason didn't say anything for a long moment, looking between Marie and the fire. The sight of the flames melting away was oddly comforting, as thought it was taking almost four desperate years of struggling to remember with it.

Now all that remained was the odd sense of freedom etching itself into his senses.

He looked over at Marie again. 'You know, you did make at least one major news network.'

She laughed, startled. 'Still less than you,' she retorted. 'And besides, it turned out to be a good thing anyway.'

'Yeah. It did.'

Marie did not answer, just smiled and reached for his hand, clasping it tightly as the last sparks died, and the past alongside it.

And with that, Jason stepped forwards towards freedom.

* * *

**I know, I know--it's an epilogue, yet it manages to be longer than half of my chapters. Oh well.**

**I had a lot of fun writing this, and thanks very much to everyone who has reveiwed it/added it to their favs/added it to their alerts. If you have done the last two and not reviewe, feel free, its always nice to get feedback.**

**Thanks for reading!**

**-Tigeress-10**


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